


Make Her Believe

by windandthestars



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 12:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windandthestars/pseuds/windandthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had walked away when forgiveness or even anger, short lived and dangerous, would have been a better choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Her Believe

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I Know My Words Cannot Assure You](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/13247) by cakeandbluejello. 



He had turned from her and walked away time and again. That's what sticks out most in his mind, not his refusal to leave her later with Addison twisting his arm, not all the times she had left him angry and alone, but the times he had turned his back to her. Forgiveness is a difficult and complicated concept for anyone, but when it came to Helen Magnus there was a certain fragility that came with the idea, a separation of a person from those around them. He had forgiven her her deciet long before he had considered needing to, he had forgiven himself, but Magnus, she would never forgive herself, and that, he felt was his fault.

He had walked away when forgiveness or even anger, short lived and dangerous, would have been a better choice. He had walked away and left her alone to think, to fester. Magnus knew no shame, but guilt ate at her like acid on stone, damage slowly building leaving film and residue behind, a ghost of the figure that had stood there before.

He wanted to tell her that it was all right, that despite the fact they both knew her actions had been justified, tell her that he knew it was more complicated than that. He wanted to see her weep, to see the walls and the barricades, melt away, not by force but through choice, her choice. He wanted to hear her scream, to rage, to ache, to hurt and to wound.

He wanted to see her pain linger somewhere other than in those sad blue eyes. And while he could reassure her, tease her, laugh with her, look after her, there wasn't anything he could say to make her believe. Empirical evidence did not exist as far as the heart was concerned.

He couldn't make her feel what he wanted her to, but he could make her forget, he could shelter her, slowly ease her through the storm to the other side, hoping all along she never caught on and called him on it. He could make her scream and writhe against his bed as he spelt out the terms of her silent surrender, his hands firm on her hips, his tongue painting words against her skin.

He could make her curse and rage, her whole body quivering, waiting, pleading, until he left her panting, crumpled against the sheets. He could push her higher and higher, then save her from the fall, listening to her whimper, begging him to let her go. He could do all this but he couldn't make her believe the one thing he needed her to, the one thing that would absolve them both. She was worthy of her own forgiveness, that wondrous, blessed thing that spilled so freely out before her. Sanctuary for all, she had told him that first night when he had stared at her in wonder. Sanctuary for all, but not for him, not anymore, and particularly not for her it seemed.


End file.
